As flowers of death from war the Knight returns home.
With tragic eyes he looks to a silver star in the grey sky.
Then, in the flickering lights of a rainbow cloud,
he looks upon the spirits of those whom he killed.
In tears the valley is like an eye of dark echoes with rings of sadness.
Thousands of years are lost.
In all his years with the stars of heaven,
there is weeping for the departed.
And then the strong Knight with fear in his eyes,
lets down a small tear,
as if to water first life upon the moon.
He stood in the waves of an ocean.
With remorse did his feet touch the foamy water,
which is the shortness of life.
“I do not want my life to be shortened,
so I will not shorten the lives of others.”
With this he threw his spear and sword
into the waves which would forever take them.
A swirling grey mist did fly from the sun
and the sand did move like a gust of soft wind
into his new path of rosy eyes
with color like blurry lights in the morning.